The Chronicles of Ripper: Guilt
by Dani Valentine
Summary: Giles can't sleep so he goes to an old friend for help. The second installment in "The Chronicles of Ripper" series. Pre-series
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Chronicles of Ripper: Guilt**  
 **Rating: FRT**  
 **Pairing: Giles/Ethan undertones, but it's not romantic or shippy really.**  
 **Summary: Giles can't sleep and he goes to an old friend for help. The second installment in _The Chronicles of Ripper_ series.**  
 **Timeline: 1980**  
 **Word Count: ~8900**  
 **Note: Written for Summer of Giles 2016**

* * *

 **London, 1980**

"What are you afraid of?"

It seemed like an easy enough question, but when you spend your time chasing monsters in the dark the answer might not be so simple.

He had been traveling for over a year now, going from town to town, chasing leads on supernatural occurrences. As long as he was working he was fine, it was when he was left to his own devices that he started having issues.

Randall died three years ago. A lot had happened since then, but if Rupert dropped dead, that event would be the one that defined his time on Earth.

That's probably why, after three weeks, he was still so bothered by his father's question.

He found himself back in London. He had planned to stay in a hotel, but when his grandmother learned of his visit she insisted he stay at the house. Edna Giles always got what she wanted.

His grandmother was as healthy as any woman in her sixties could hope to be, which was impressive for a woman nearing eighty. Still, after his grandfather passed she had moved into his childhood home, where his father could look after her.

It was through her meddling that he ended up staring at the blank walls of his boyhood room. He hadn't spent much time there since he was ten, mostly weekends and holidays, when he was out of school.

Once upon a time, posters of fighter planes adorned his walls. They were taken down and thrown away, along with his dreams of becoming a fighter pilot, after he was told he would be a watcher. Watchers don't get the luxury of dreams, only nightmares.

A knock pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to find his father in his doorway.

"Rupert," His father greeted. "You should wash up, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. We expect you to be there when it is served."

"I shall." He promised, he always felt uncomfortable with his father, overly proper. When he was a boy he often envied the ease at which his mates interacted with their fathers. He hadn't spoken to his father in the three weeks since the question was asked, now here he was about to have dinner with the man. He had a feeling this would be an uncomfortable evening.

Sure enough, it took only ten minutes for an argument to erupt. It started when his father asked him what brought him back to London.

"A demon, I tracked it here from up North." He lied.

The elder Mr. Giles knew his son well enough to know when he wasn't being truthful. There was apparently a tell, but his father would never tell him what it was. "That's interesting, because The Council doesn't know anything about any new demons in town."

"The Council isn't all knowing." Rupert argued.

"When it comes to demons in London, it is. So why don't you tell me the truth, Rupert?"

Their nice family dinner was ruined. So, without bothering to answer, he stood up, put his napkin down on the table and stormed out of the house.

Was he overreacting? Sure. Then again, why did his father insist on riling him up? That was just one of the many things that annoyed him about his father, he was incapable of letting things go. That also happened to be a shared trait, which explained why they argued much of the time.

* * *

There was a bar in the East End his former band played sometimes. It's where he first met Ethan, and even now, when he's needed to speak with him, more often than not he would reach him at the bar.

Sure enough he found Ethan hunched over a pint at one of the back tables. He hadn't seen Ethan since just after Randall's death. He had hoped never to have to. However, circumstances change. He no longer had a choice. This was something he couldn't do on his own.

"Hello, Ethan." He said, pulling out the chair across from him and taking a seat.

Ethan's eyes widened in surprise when he recognized his old friend, "Ripper, this is… unexpected."

"I know, this isn't a social visit." Too much had happened. While he stopped doing magic, recreationally, after Randall's death, Ethan not only continued but devoted himself even more to the service of Janus.

"I thought not. What demon or other form of evil is terrorizing our great city this time?" Ethan asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Nothing, as far as I know… It's terrorizing me." He said. At Ethan's confused look he went on to explain, skipping over the phone conversation he'd had with his father. "Three weeks ago I was up North. I had just finished dealing with a nest of vampires. Afterward, I couldn't sleep for three days. I took sleeping pills, I saw doctors, and nothing helped." He lowered his voice. "I had to resort to magic, there was no other way, the sleep deprivation was driving me mad."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Ripper, you're the only one here that has a problem using magic for your own gain."

He wanted to argue, but it wasn't worth it. "Fine, but since I haven't been able to figure out what's wrong with me, I've seen six physicians and even a psychiatrist."

He didn't have anything against psychiatrists, but the point of speaking to one was about establishing an open and honest dialogue to get to the source of the problem. When you spend your evenings hunting demons an open dialogue would only get him a one-way trip to a psychiatric facility. That's why the Watcher's Council had employed their own psychiatrists for watchers to utilize, but the last place he wanted The Council was inside his head.

"I came to the conclusion that whatever is the matter with me, it must be mystical. Which was confirmed when I made a protection charm to wear, and it worked. I fell asleep."

"Well it sounds like you have this pretty well under hand, why do you need me?"

"If Eyghon has re-"

Ethan's eyes darkened. "It's not Eyghon."

Ethan looked angry, something Rupert was not used to. Even when Ethan was being thrashed he always had a spark of humor in his eyes. It was part of his charm. This… his eyes had turned black, he'd seen it before when they performed dark magic.

If it wasn't obvious before, it was clear now, Ethan was not the same man who had nearly fallen victim to a vampire five years prior. The Ethan he met in the back alley of that very bar.

* * *

 **London, 1975**

Rupert walked out the back door into the alley. He needed some fresh air before he took the stage. No matter how many times he played he was always nervous right before a show. He usually didn't calm down until after the first song.

He heard a commotion further down the alley and he went to investigate. After a decade of studying to be a watcher, he recognized that something was wrong almost immediately. It only took a fraction of a second to react, jumping into the fray.

He pushed the vampire off the young man and looked around for anything around that could be used as a stake. Before he could find anything the demon had grabbed him by his leather jacket and threw him across the alley.

Pain exploded in his head as it smacked against the brick wall behind him. He didn't let the pain hold him back. He looked over, and though his vision was slightly blurry, he could see the broken bar stool next to him. As the vampire bent over to feed from him, he grasped the wooden leg and thrust it into his attacker's chest as hard as he could. The vampire was defeated, leaving behind only a fine layer of dust.

He stood up and brushed off his clothes as he went to check on the other man.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking him over. He seemed fine, just shaken.

"Fine, thank you." He said. He quickly regained his wits and gave Rupert a smile.

Rupert's hand went up to touch the back of his head, where he hit his head against the wall. He felt around gingerly, but as his fingers brushed against the wound he hissed and pulled his hand away.

"You're hurt." The other man said, seeing the blood on Rupert's fingers.

"I'll be fine," Rupert assured him.

"Let me at least take a look, you might need to go to the hospital."

"That's really unnecessary." He argued though he was already turning to let him see. He felt something on the back of his head, possibly a hand, then heard the man say a few words in Latin. He recognized them immediately. His body suddenly felt very warm. "You're a warlock." He turned back around to face the other man.

"Yes." He replied simply. "My name is Ethan."

"I'm Rupert."

"Well Ripper, you took a nasty bump to the head, but the spell I did might speed up the healing process."

"Thank you, but my name is actually Rupert."

"We'll see about that."

 **End of Flashback**

* * *

"Ethan, I don't want to believe it's Eyghon any more than you do, but what else could it be?" Rupert Asked. "We always knew this would be a possibility."

"Then why is it only affecting you? It's not affecting me, or Dierdre, or Philip, or Thomas. Besides, Eyghon is known as the sleepwalker, it can only take over a host that is either dead or unconscious?"

"Perhaps-"

"No, I'll help you, but it's not Eyghon." Ethan said, cutting him off.

"Alright." He knew Ethan had a point, but if it wasn't Eyghon then he had no idea what it could possibly be. "What is it then? If it's not Eyghon then we're at square one, we don't know what it is, or how to get rid of it."

"Why don't you ask your council about it? Last time you saw me you said you never wanted anything to do with me, or my magic, again." Ethan reminded him. "Why would you want me to help you?"

"I don't want the council to know anything about this." He told him, a little louder than he meant to, catching the attention of a few people around them. He lowered his voice. "Please, Ethan, I need you to do this for me."

Ethan sighed. He never could say no to Ripper.

* * *

When Rupert got back to the house that evening he expected everyone to be asleep. After Ethan agreed to help him they snuck into the library at The Council's headquarters, with the help of a former classmate. They researched until well after midnight. By the time he walked back in the front door it was nearly two in the morning.

"Where were you?"

The voice startled him and he spun around. He found his father standing in archway to the sitting room with a half empty glass of scotch in his hand.

"Out." He answered simply. "Goodnight."

"If you're going to stay here I need to know where you go and I need you back at a decent hour."

"I'm twenty-six bloody years old, and perfectly capable of making my own decisions."

"Because those decisions have worked out so well for you in the past. Not under my roof." His father said, walking closer so he was standing right in front of him. He towered over his son.

At six feet one inch, Rupert Giles was an impressive man, more so than most. However, his father wasn't most men. His father had used his size as an intimidation tactic for most of his life, but now it had very little effect on him.

Rupert clenched his jaw and looked defiantly up at his father. "I didn't ask to stay here. I had a room booked across town, Gran asked me to stay. I did it for her. I didn't do it because I need your help, or anything else from you."

The smug look on the elder Giles' face faltered.

"Gran's intentions were good, but I made a mistake thinking you and I could ever live in the same house again, even temporarily." With that said, Rupert marched up to his room and packed his things.

* * *

 **I hope you're enjoying the fic so far. Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

He could always count on Ethan living in the same flat. He had inherited it when his parents died. Ethan rarely talked about them, so all he knew was that they had been killed when some sort of spell had gotten out of hand. Ethan had barely been eighteen when it happened.

Shortly after they met, Ethan asked him if he wanted to move in. He had been crashing on sofas for months, so he agreed without giving it much thought. In the nearly two years he'd lived there it had felt more like home than anywhere else he'd stayed.

He never expected to knock on his door again.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning he was in Ethan's bed. Ethan was sound asleep next to him. He quietly got up and made his way to the kitchen, pulling his jeans on along the way. This was just another conversation, on a list of many, they'd never have.

When Ethan came out of the room breakfast was ready. Rupert placed a plate of sausage on the table for Ethan. Besides some magical ingredients, it was the only thing in the refrigerator that hadn't spoiled.

He had been snacking on stale cereal while he cooked so he really wasn't that hungry. "I'm going to shower." He told Ethan.

"Care for some company?" Ethan asked with a smirk.

Rupert paused at that, but quickly regained his composure and kept walking. He had other things to worry about.

When he came out after his shower Ethan was fully dressed and the breakfast dishes were piled in the sink along with dishes from, he guessed, the past three days.

"There's a pub, it's underground, a demon haunt. I thought we could ask around, see if anyone knows what could be attached to you." Ethan suggested.

Ethan had been skeptical when Ripper came to him, claiming to be haunted by some sort of demon. He was going to play along, he used any excuse he could to spend time with his friend.

Until last night. Even with the spells and the sleeping drafts, Ripper had night terrors every hour. At almost six he was woken up for the third time, so he went out to the sofa to check on him.

He knew they'd never talk about what came next. It didn't matter, talking had never been a big part of their relationship.

"Do you think they'll know anything?" Rupert asked.

Ethan grinned. "Probably not, but it'll be more enjoyable than puttering around the flat all day. That is, unless-"

"Demon pub it is." He interrupted, knowing exactly what Ethan was about to suggest.

* * *

London was an interesting city, an ancient city, densely populated, the only place left to go was underground. Some tunnels everyone knew about written about extensively. The tunnels most frequented by demons however wouldn't be found on any maps, long forgotten by most humans and cloaked with magic. This included the entrance to the pub.

It wasn't as crowded, but there was a sizable crowd for noon. They went up to the bar and ordered a couple of pints, being very specific that they wanted beer, lest the barkeep mistake them for demons or vampires.

They took their pints and looked around to find a table. It wasn't easy since every time they neared another individual they received a threatening glare.

"Ethan, how are we supposed to get information from these demons?" That one looks like he'd rather wear my entrails as a scarf than help us in any way."

Ethan looked at the demon in question. He had a fair point. "Alright, I'll concede that one, but there are others here. Information gathering is about leverage, if you have something they want they'll give you what you want… just drink your beer." He told him before leaving to talk to a group of demons.

Rupert watched as Ethan spoke to the only other beings in the room that looked human. If there was any question at all about their status one look at the crimson liquid in their glasses answered it. His mind wandered back to another pub and another group of vampires, four years earlier.

* * *

 **London, 1976**

Ripper followed Ethan through the pub. "This better work." He told Ethan as they stepped up to a group of about five other men. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Not men. Vampires.

He looked to Ethan, judging by his lack of reaction Ethan knew exactly what they'd be dealing with. Ripper's jaw clenched as he listened to the interaction.

"We need to find someone." Ethan said to the vampire standing closest to them. He was obviously in charge. "A mage, goes by the name Malus. I was told you might know where to find him."

They had been searching for this sorcerer for almost two months. Neither of them had ever met him, but Ethan's mum had written about him in one of her spell books. Most of the powerful spells she had written down were attributed to him. The name was obviously not his given name, it was probably Marvin or something equally unimpressive, not the name of a powerful mage. On the one hand, Malus wasn't a common name, it was easy to find people who have heard of him, but he was like a ghost. Everyone knew the name, maybe even seen him a time or two but nobody knew where he lived, or even his real name, so finding him proved difficult.

The longer it took the more desperate they became. They were having trouble with a spell, it was dark magic, advanced beyond any of their current capabilities. If anyone could help it would be Malus.

"May have." The demon replied. "What's it to you?"

"I told you, we need to find him, we're willing to pay."

"Ethan." Ripper hissed. He knew damn well Ethan didn't have the money. Neither did he and he didn't feel like fighting seven vampires on his own. It's not as if Ethan would be any help, he was useless in a brawl.

Ethan ignored him.

"We don't need money."

"I said we'd be willing to pay, not that we'd be willing to pay cash." Ethan replied evenly. "Blood." He ignored the rage rolling off his companion. He knew he was going to pay for this later, but it would be worth it.

"Ethan." Ripper said again. "You are not selling your blood to vampires for information." He could believe he even needed to say that.

" _I_ 'm not." Ethan replied calmly. " _We_ are. Don't worry, they won't kill us."

"Yes, because vampires are notoriously trustworthy." Ripper shot back sarcastically.

Ultimately his desire for the information clouded all reason and he gave in to the conditions. The leader and one of the others led them into the back alley. The other one seemed younger, though it was hard to tell with the undead. It worried him because the younger the vamp the less control they had over their bloodlust. Of course it's also the one that he ended up with. He shrugged off his jacket and offered his arm, he wasn't letting him anywhere near his neck.

He glanced over at Ethan who seemed a bit too eager to offer himself up as a snack. He flinched slightly when he felt the sharp teeth sink into his skin. It didn't take long for him to get light-headed and the vampire had pulled back, his human visage already back in place. He had to admit, the light-headed feeling was nice, but it's not something he'd risk his life over again, this was a special circumstance.

He held his hand over the open wound. A moan caused him to look back over to his companion. He was familiar with that moan, he'd elicited that same moan countless times from Ethan. Though when he did, it wasn't usually his neck that was being sucked.

Part of him was disgusted by what was happening in front of him, but another part of him was turned on by Ethan's reaction, the part of him that existed below the belt. He closed his and tried to clear his mind of those thoughts. He didn't want to give Ethan any reason to think this sort of thing was okay.

He walked over and pulled the demon from Ethan's neck. "You got what you wanted, now tell us what we want to know." Ripper demanded. He spared a glance over at Ethan who seemed a bit dizzy but otherwise okay. Happy even.

He got the information needed and fought the urge not to stake the vamps, after all a deal is a deal.

"What the bloody hell was that?" He asked, pinning Ethan against the wall.

"It was safe. Vampires like that don't want bodies lying around, not with your Council so close." Ethan managed to say though his voice was a bit slurred like he was drunk.

It finally hit him, how Ethan knew so much about this. "This isn't the first time you've let one bite you." He pulled back when Ethan didn't refute it.

"Don't be like that, Ripper."

"I've seen every inch of you this past year, the only time I saw a bite was… when we met." His voice suddenly got quiet. He felt like it was all a lie, everything they'd had, what they'd been through. He didn't know the man in front of him. It wasn't the same man he'd woken up with that morning. "You let him bite you."

"Yes." Ethan replied, his head clearing slightly, though now he resisted the urge to be sick.

Ripper pulled his jacket back on. "Well, next time I'll be sure not to bother interfering, since you seem to enjoy being sucked by vampires so much." He made a mental note to never invite Ethan into the apartment, just in case.

Ethan knew he should feel bad, that what he was doing was wrong. Part of him loved pissing off Ripper though, he knew making up would be a mind-blowing experience. It always was with him.

 **End of Flashback**

* * *

That wasn't the last time Ethan came home with fresh bite marks. Sometimes he had three fresh bites in the same week. Usually they were on his neck, sometimes on his arm, and occasionally even his thigh.

Rupert was never a jealous man, but Ripper took issue with Ethan sharing his body in a manner that was in some ways more intimate than what they shared. Those vampires could give Ethan something that he never could, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

As Ethan spiraled into his addiction, Ripper spent more time immersing himself in the black arts. He couldn't stop any more than Ethan could. Eventually they weren't partners anymore, just junkies occupying the same space.

Demon summoning was dangerous business under the best circumstances. Ethan and Ripper were the only practiced sorcerers in the group. The other four were just dabblers looking for a better high. The question was never _if_ something would go wrong, only _when_. When it did, it went very wrong. It took the death of a young man to show them just how far around the bend they'd gone.

His mind came back to the present and Rupert stood up and made his way toward Ethan. They had been through too much to let this happen again. He grabbed Ethan by his shirt collar and dragged him back out to the tunnel.

"I always liked it when you took charge." Ethan said with a smirk, before Rupert slammed him against the wall.

"Is this amusing to you?" He asked, on the verge of yelling. "You could never hide from me, Ethan. I saw you last night. _All_ of you. You've been clean and now you're just going to throw that away? For what?"

"For you." Ethan pushed Rupert's hands off his chest.

"Don't use me as an excuse. You-"

"You woke up screaming." He interrupted. "Maybe I can't hide from you, Ripper, but you can't hide from me either. This is more than just being unable to sleep. When you do manage to fall asleep you're having night terrors, if that's even a strong enough description for what I witnessed last night."

"I'm. Fine." Rupert bit out. "They were nightmares, that doesn't mean I need you to do that again."

"It's not just nightmares. Like I said, you can't hide either. You're reading slower. You were having trouble with the card index at the library. Your body is getting weaker and you're losing muscle mass. I know it's been some time since I've seen you, but I'm guessing you weren't this lean before this started." He said, he took the silence as confirmation. "This isn't just a nuisance, Rupert. Eventually it will kill you and I'm not going to sit by while that happens."

Rupert stepped back, putting some distance between them. "I came to you because I thought you could be objective."

"I am." Ethan said. "We need information. They might have information in exchange for one bite. What is one bite if it means you get to live?"

"Find another way." Rupert ground out. "One bite has a way of turning into ten, and I'm not letting anyone else die because of my mistakes."

Anyone else. Ethan stopped cold, as he often did when anybody mentioned Randall. Neither of them had mentioned it to the other in the three years since it happened.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them.

Finally Ethan cleared his throat. "We'll do it your way." He conceded. Ripper was right, of course, he usually was. If this, whatever it was, killed his friend he wouldn't let his last memory of him be disappointment. The vamps would still be there if they couldn't find another way. Next time he wouldn't go back with Ripper.

* * *

Six days.

They had been searching for an answer for six days. They were often at the council researching until one in the morning and they had nothing to show for it.

Rupert was worse off than before. His face was gaunt, dark circles had developed under his eyes, his shirts were all too big, and even his belt wasn't enough to keep his jeans up.

He had taken to napping throughout the day, however he was never asleep more than thirty minutes before waking up screaming.

There was another disturbing development that didn't bode well for him. One night after he and Ethan had fallen asleep he woke up in agony after a particularly vivid dream of being ripped apart by a hellhound.

When Ethan turned on the bedside lamp they were horrified to find bloody claw marks covering Rupert's chest, back, and arms. Until that point sleeping next to Ethan had made it easier to fall asleep. The rhythm of his breathing, his warm skin, and the thump of his heartbeat had lulled him to sleep. Since that night nothing had helped.

They were desperate for an answer.

"Damn!" He exclaimed, standing up. They had tried one last spell. They knew it was a long shot, but they were out of options.

The spell was a purification spell, originally designed to cleanse one's aura. They altered it slightly so that it could cleanse his physical form, pushing out anything that might be possessing him or latching on. None of the standard exorcisms had worked. There was a big chance that the spell wouldn't work at all, a smaller chance that it would backfire and rip his soul right out of his body. The miniscule chance that it would actually work was what they had latched all their hope onto.

Rupert scooped up the bowl that held the mixed ingredients for the spell and threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter.

"Ta, Ripper, that was very helpful." Ethan said sarcastically. He wasn't happy about the outcome either, but throwing things wasn't going to help any. He knelt down and started picking up the pieces of the bowl. He didn't care about the bowl, but it worried him that Ripper was losing his temper so easily.

He looked up to ask for some help when he saw blood seeping through Ripper's shirt. Obviously he hadn't done the best of job patching up the claw marks and when Ripper lost his temper they had opened up again.

He quickly swept the remains of the bowl into a pile on the floor with his hands then went and grabbed his med kit from the kitchen.

"Shirt off." He ordered.

He was too tired to argue. Rupert's hands shook as he pulled his shirt over his head, wincing as the movement pulled even more of the lacerations. "Sorry about the bowl." He said softly.

"It's fine, I probably would have done the same if I were in your place."

Rupert was about to respond when Ethan started dabbing the open wounds with an alcohol swab and the only noise that left his mouth was a pained hiss.

It took maybe five minutes to bandage his wounds, but to Rupert it felt like eternity. He was relieved when Ethan shut the med kit, indicating that they were done.

Ethan was putting the kit back in the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Shirt still off, Rupert went over and answered it. He wished he could say he was surprised by who it was, but the only surprise was that the visitor took so long.

* * *

 **The third and final chapter will be posted tomorrow.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here it is, the third and final chapter.**

* * *

"Gran." He said by way of greeting. "What are you doing here?" He asked, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his lack of a shirt.

She ignored his question and pushed past him, into the apartment. She noticed the broken glass on the floor, it was worse than she thought. She turned to face her grandson.

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Do you really think I'm not clever enough to figure out you'd stay with the one friend you still have in London?"

"I didn't know you knew where he lived."

"Putting aside the resources I have at my disposal because of the Council, I've been here once before." She reminded him. It wasn't surprising he didn't remember, he hadn't really been coherent that night.

"You still haven't told me what you're doing here now. If you've come to take me back to the house—"

She cut him off. "You've been sneaking into the Council library with Ethan. Do you think _he_ would have been allowed inside had I not told them to let him?" She asked, gesturing to Ethan who had just walked back into the room.

"Then why did you let us in?" Ethan asked. Edna Giles wasn't Ethan's favorite person; she made it clear on more than once occasion that he wasn't good enough for her grandson. However she seemed more content to let Ripper lead his own life than her son did. Even if it meant having to clean up the mess left behind.

* * *

 **Ethan's Apartment, 1977**

Edna Giles was notorious for keeping a cool head in a crisis, never showing emotion, but nothing prepared her for what she walked into that night. She had received a frantic call from her grandson's boyfriend. She feared the worst, it was only a matter of time before the dark magic and drug use led him to a tragic end.

She rushed over to the flat. At first she was happy to see her grandson was fine, but as she took in the horror around her she realized that though he was alive he was far from fine.

There was a body on the floor, in the center of a pentagram and the head had been severed cleanly from the neck, and lay several feet away. Rupert was catatonic on the nearest chair, a bloody battle-ax at his feet. There were others on the floor across the room. They looked younger than Rupert, though not quite as young as the man inside the pentagram. At first she thought they were dead as well, but upon closer inspection she could see their chests rise and fall with each breath.

"He didn't have a choice."

She spun around and found Ethan behind her, a bottle of liquor in his hand. She knew he was referring to Rupert. He was the only one in the group big enough to be able and swing the ax with enough force to take the head off with a single swing.

She saw the tattoo on Ethan's arm and everything suddenly fell into place, the pentagram, the decapitation, everything. They were summoning demons. She knew Rupert was messing with dark magic, but nothing like this.

"The reversal spell didn't work. It was too late." Ethan continued. He took a long pull from the bottle. "After, everyone was screaming, so I did a spell to make them sleep."

"And Rupert?"

"I don't know. I didn't do that to him, he's been like that since just before I called you. He hasn't even blinked… Rupert wrote your number down when he moved in, in case something happened to him."

She never liked Ethan. She understood the appeal; he was handsome, even if a bit thin, he was charming, and mysterious, but she could see him for what he really was… selfish and reckless, to the point of being dangerous. Still, she wasn't in the habit of pushing her grandson away by interfering with his personal life, his father did that enough for the both of them.

"I'll take care of this." She said, taking a business card from her purse. "With one phone call I can make all of this go away." It was common practice for the Council to interfere in supernatural deaths, to make sure nobody knew what was really going on in the world. If the existence of demons and vampires became public there would be mass panic. "You need to stay away from my grandson, or I'll make sure you're the only one implicated. That is my one condition."

Ethan saw in her eyes that she was serious. He nodded in agreement, really having no other choice. "Make the call."

Twenty minutes later she was in the back of her car, seated next to a quiet but alert Rupert. If her driver noticed the blood on Rupert's clothes he didn't mention it, and he knew better than to ask questions. There was a coven in Devon the Council sometimes worked with; they could help him with his addiction. It would also give him a chance to get better before facing the Council.

 **End of Flashback**

* * *

Randall's death had been ruled an accident. The group asleep on the floor had their memories of the death erased. They would remember most of the events leading up to it, but not enough to contradict the story if questioned. Only Ethan and Rupert would know exactly what happened that night.

"After you left the house, I knew the best way for me to be sure you weren't doing anything foolish was to keep an eye on you. That's easier to do at the Council headquarters." She said. "It took me a while to connect the dots, but if anyone had bothered telling me what was going on, all of _this_ ," She gestured to Rupert and the mess from the spell on the floor, "could have been avoided."

Rupert's ears perked up. "You know what's wrong with me?" He asked, his voice muffled by his shirt, which was stuck on his head. He finally got his head through the shirt collar and pulled it down to cover his torso. "What is it?"

"The demon you slayed a few weeks back, you beheaded it, correct?" She asked him.

"I did. Why?" He said, wondering where this was going. He couldn't figure out how it could possibly have anything to do with what was happening to him now.

"If you had done more research you would know that the only way to kill that particular demon is to stab it in the heart with a silver blade dipped in the blood of a virgin."

"No, I killed it. I buried its body."

"Its corporeal body, yes. Its soul would have gone on to inhabit the nearest person. You." She reached into her bag and pulled out a file, handing it to him.

He opened the file, looking through the research, but he was so exhausted he couldn't make heads or tails of what he was reading.

"I'll explain more on the way, but we need to get to Devon."

She opened the door and as Ethan made his way to follow them out she held up her hand. "No."

"I'm not leaving his side." He told her. "Not until I know he'll be alright."

"I'll be fine, Ethan. I'll call you as soon as I can." Rupert said. He was tired, and he knew she wouldn't take Ethan with them.

Ethan looked back and forth between them. Finally he conceded. He had a feeling he wasn't going to see his friend again.

* * *

It was a long drive to Devon, and most of it was his grandmother keeping him from falling asleep as she explained to him about the demon.

She explained how the demon gains power as the host slumbers, manifesting itself through nightmares. As the demon became stronger so did the nightmares, eventually it would be strong enough to where when something happened in his dream it manifested on his body. There was a legend that said if you die in your dreams you die in real life. In this case it was true. If he had died in his dreams the demon would have been able to fully take control of his body. Since he had already given himself to Eyghon a magical bond existed that helped to fight off the demon by keeping him awake. In an interesting twist of fate, if he had never summoned Eyghon then the demon would have already completely taken him over by now.

By the time they arrived in Devon it was early morning. He hadn't slept for more than thirty minutes at a time in three days. He looked even worse than when his grandmother had brought him to them three years earlier.

He listened as they explained the ritual. They were going to give the demon its own corporeal form and draw it out of him. Once that was done they could kill it with the silver blade as he should have done the first time.

Of course, none of what they told him prepared him for how painful extracting the demon would be. As the coven chanted around him he felt like his insides were being ripped out of him and he couldn't scream as a dark cloud of smoke came pouring out of his mouth. He now understood why they had strapped him to a table as his arms and legs strained at the bindings and his body arched up. As the last of the smoke left his body he collapsed back onto the table. He could barely keep his eyes open as he watched it funnel into the mouth of the corporeal form they had created for it.

He realized too late something that they hadn't thought of, as they approached the form to kill the demon it woke up. Someone had been considerate enough to start undoing his restraints, but unfortunately was tossed aside by the demon before she could get more than one undone. The demon tossed the table aside and it fell, unfortunately in the direction of his restrained hand. He had no way of moving his hand out of the way and he heard a loud snap as the table edge fell on his bent wrist.

He could no longer see the rampage behind him but he could use his left hand, which was no longer restrained to undo the other three restraints, including the one on his now broken wrist. When he was free he crouched behind the table and looked at the chaos in the room. There were spells being cast at the demon from all directions with minimal effect. Most of them bounced right off, and the ones that didn't seemed to not slow it down any.

He spotted the blade about five feet away from him. When he looked back toward the demon he saw that it was heading straight for his grandmother who was attending to one of the injured members of the coven. He used every last bit of strength he had to get the knife and bound across the room, plunging the dagger through the demon's back, between its ribs and right into its heart. He gave it a twist for good measure and the demon fell into a heap on the floor. Dead.

He could hear his blood pumping in his ears and he felt dizzy and nauseous. The events of the last few minutes only made his condition worse and he fell to the floor unconscious.

* * *

When he came to he was back in his old room. Someone had changed him into his sleep clothes and he knew it must've been his father, and he felt annoyed momentarily that his father had seen him like this. It was as if fate was mocking him, for this just proved his father right; he couldn't make good decisions for himself. At least this time nobody died.

He moved to sit up and he realized he had a cast on his right wrist. He'd forgotten about that. He was amazed they'd managed to put a cast on his wrist without waking him. Or perhaps he had been awake and forgot about it.

He debated putting on real clothes but realized it would be too hard to button a pair of pants. Not wanting to be further embarrassed he elected to go downstairs in his flannel pajamas. His gran was at the breakfast table drinking tea and reading the paper when he came down. She looked up when he came in and she gave him a warm smile.

"Rupert, you're awake. I was getting worried you'd never wake up."

He took a seat across from her. "How long was I unconscious?" He asked.

"Almost three days."

"No wonder I'm so hungry." As if on cue his stomach started making loud noises.

Edna smiled. "I'll ask Ellie to cook you something to eat." She said.

"You don't have—" his stomach cut him off, as if protesting what he was about to say. Not that it would have done him any good as his grandmother was already out of the room to find the maid.

She came back several minutes later with another teacup and saucer. She placed it on the table in front of him and poured him a cup of tea. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I spent the last month possessed by a demon." He took a sip of his tea. It was soothing on his dry throat. He guessed he probably hadn't had anything to drink since his three-day siesta. When he spoke again his voice was much smoother. "What happened?" he asked.

"You mean after you saved me from that dreadful demon?" He blushed slightly and she continued. "You passed out. We tried everything we could to wake you up, smelling salts, water, someone even slapped you, but you wouldn't wake up. We knew you were alive because you were still breathing and your pulse was steady. We just figured you needed some sleep. I brought you back here so the Council doctor could take a look at you. He set your wrist, which surprisingly did not wake you up, and he bandaged your other injuries."

He sat there, taking it all in.

"You almost died, Rupert." Her voice was quiet. Almost too quiet. "If I had found what was wrong with you one day later you would have been taken completely by the demon."

"I know." He said. "I didn't want to worry you or father, and I didn't want to give him another reason to push me toward the Council. That's why I asked Ethan for help. He doesn't ask for anything in return."

"I know, but I would have helped you. And as much as you despise the Council, they would have figured out what was wrong long before I did just going off your research." She pointed out. "You could have died, and it could have been easily prevented."

He looked down at his tea.

"Your father has lost everything. Clara. Your mum. They're both gone. You're all he has left."

He felt a tear gather at the corner of his eye, as one often did when anyone mentioned his sister, Clara. His mum had died after a long illness. He'd had time to say goodbye, and when she was gone he had the comfort of knowing that she would no longer suffer. Clara's death, like her life, was short and violent as seemed to be the case for slayers.

"I know." He said, his voice wavering. He cleared his throat and took another sip of his tea.

She reached out for his hand. "Rupert, you can't keep putting yourself in danger like this. I'm not going to tell you to come work for the Council, I know how you feel about it. But I do request that if you're not going to work for the Council, then stop chasing after demons and ghosts." She said.

He looked at her. "I can't simply walk away knowing all that I do." He said. "So if the Council is still willing to give me a chance…" He trailed off, looking out the window. It wasn't what he wanted, not really, but he knew it's where he could do the most good.

"I'll talk to the board, but I'm sure they'll be as thrilled as I am that you've reconsidered."

They finished their tea quietly. Every few minutes his stomach would break the silence until Ellie came out with a full plate of food for him.

* * *

After he ate he took a much-needed shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He had promised Ethan he'd call as soon as he could, but he'd been asleep for the last three days. He knew neither his father nor his grandmother would have called.

At this point he knew Ethan wouldn't settle for a phone call so he took his gran's car, giving the driver the address and instructing him to leave once he went inside. Besides, there were some things that were better said in person. He just hoped the keys to his own car were still at Ethan's flat.

He knocked, and as if he had been expecting it, Ethan opened the door immediately. "Thank the gods, you're alright." He said.

He held up his wrist. "More or less. I know I said I would call." He said, stepping into the apartment. "I would have, but apparently I've been sleeping for the last three days."

"Making up for lost time, I'm sure."

He gave Ethan a slight smile and looked down, finding his keys on the coffee table. He picked them up and shoved them into his pocket.

"I stopped by your house last night. They wouldn't let me see you… I thought…"

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Though they both knew this could have turned out very differently.

They were both quiet for a minute. Rupert wasn't making eye contact and Ethan could tell something was bothering him.

"I'm never going to see you again, am I?" Ethan asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Probably not." He admitted. "I've decided I'm going to go work for the Council."

Ethan was genuinely surprised by that revelation. "You hate the Council."

"Well, it's not just about me. I'd be able to do more good working for them and it would be a lot less dangerous."

"So that's it? You decide to join the Council and we never see each other again? Did the last week mean nothing to you?" He asked, trying to hide how hurt he was.

"You helped me when I needed it and I'll always appreciate that, but anything else that may have happened between us last week, we should have left it in the past."

He hated hurting Ethan, but he knew he had to do it. As painful as it would be he needed to leave Ethan behind to leave Ripper behind. That part of his life was over.

He and Ethan were never meant to be. They brought about the worst in each other. They weren't just ready to sacrifice themselves for the other, they were ready to hit the self destruct button and take everything out around them as they did. That was clear when Ethan tried to make a deal with the vampires at the demon bar. He'd even found evidence in the flat that Ethan's worship of Chaos had gotten wildly out of hand. He hadn't been willing to say anything before, since he had bigger things to worry about, but he couldn't deny it now. Ethan was headed down a dark path, and if he didn't get out now he would be dragged along for the ride.

"I'm sorry."

Ethan's only response was to open the door for him to leave.

Rupert sighed and stepped through the open door. He turned to say something only for the door to be slammed shut in his face. He placed his hand on the wood, knowing it would be the last time he'd stand in front of this apartment. "Goodbye, Ethan."

* * *

By the time he got back across town his father was home from the office. He found him in his study. He knocked on the frame of the open door and his father told him to come in and gestured for him to take a seat.

"I'm glad to see you're finally awake." His father said, putting his pen aside as he looked at him.

"I'm glad to be awake. And thank you for changing me into my nightclothes."

"Of course. Your grandmother insisted you couldn't sleep in your jeans and they were soaked in demon blood anyway." Edmund said. "Perhaps next time though you could remember to wear something underneath."

He blushed. He had forgotten that he hadn't put anything on underneath them. He often didn't when he was with Ethan, he just rolled out of bed and pulled them on. "O-of course." He stuttered.

The next minute of silence was awkward to say the least. Finally Rupert broke the silence. "I told Gran that I plan to join the Council."

His father smiled. "She told me at supper. Though I'm curious, what changed your mind?"

"You, actually." He said. "In a way. Remember when you called me a few weeks back? You asked me what I was so afraid of?"

"Yes, if I remember correctly you hung up the phone quite abruptly after I asked."

"Well, when the demon was giving me nightmares it was showing me my worst fear. Hell." He explained. "Ever since the incident with Eyghon, and killing Randall, I've always feared that my entire life would be judged by that one night, when I killed a nineteen year old young man who was possessed by a demon that I summoned." His father stayed quiet, and for that Rupert was grateful. He'd never talked this candidly with his father about what happened that night, he was always afraid he'd get a lecture. "That's why I started demon hunting. I knew I needed to redeem myself for what I'd done but I didn't want to join the Council."

Edmund Giles nodded. "So why the change of heart?"

"Because I've realized that what I'm doing is dangerous. Not just to me, but to others around me. People at the coven were hurt, Ethan tried to do something foolish to help figure out what was wrong with me, and the demon almost went after Gran. I can do a lot more good with the Council than I'm doing now, and it won't be as dangerous to me or anyone I care about."

"I'm proud of you, Rupert."

Rupert didn't know how much he needed to hear that until that moment.

"I realize that had I not pushed you away that night it might not have taken your Grandmother so long to figure out what was wrong with you." His father admitted. "I promise, from now on, I'll try to let you lead your own life. Even if I don't approve of your decisions."

"Thank you."

"I'm still your father though, so if I think you're doing something foolish I will say something."

"I understand." Rupert said. He stood up. "I know I just slept for three days, but I'm still knackered.

"Of course, sleep well, Rupert." His father said, watching as Rupert walked out of his office.

That night, for the first time in a month Rupert slept peacefully through the night, without a single dream to plague him. He had nothing left to fear.

* * *

 **Thank you for taking the time to read my fic. If you enjoyed it please take a couple of seconds to leave me a review.**


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